Raydor Family: Lovers Never Fail
by the.nerd.voice
Summary: The 4th Installment in the Raydor Family universe. "We couldn't possibly have one decent holiday, could we? No, because that isn't tradition. Our tradition is chaos!" Christmastime is here for the Raydors again. Sharon hides a boyfriend, Rusty shows up drunk on her doorstep, Quinn hides a boyfriend, Jack gets in trouble, and Sam is caught in the middle. See a pattern?
1. Chapter 1

Her arm draped leisurely over his bare hip. His arms wrapped around her as their kissing intensifies. He rolls her over, wanting to consume her.

She tilts her head to the side, hearing something, though she isn't sure if it's the creaking of her bed or his breathing. She closes her eyes a moment as he trails soft kisses down to her collarbone, then putting her hand on his chest when he picks his head up again, his golden cross dangling from his neck, just below her chin. "Andy, quiet. Wait a minute." She whispers.

"Sharon, come on." Andy matches her tone, rolling his eyes when she gives him a look.

Sharon rises from the bed, "Someone is in the condo." She grabs her silk robe from behind the door, quickly pulling it onto herself and tying it tightly.

"What?" He makes a face, "It's probably something outside."

She shakes her head, grabbing her pistol from her bedside table, "Just stay here." The Christmas season. The tree glows in the living room, illuming the space. Sharon slowly moves along the wall, seeing two young women with her son. She clears her throat, letting her arm down slowly.

One young woman jumps, clothed in a classy hunter green dress, but able to make it casual with a pair of leggings and boots. She stares to the woman in the hallway, becoming very apparent of the gun in her hand, "Do we have the wrong place?" Her eyes wide.

The other woman, broad shouldered and tall with a thick plaid shirt over top of a black tank top, "No, idiot. We're just bringing him here and dropping him off. That's all." She picks her head up, standing straighter, the young man hanging halfway off the sofa, "Hello." She wants to run, wants to race out of this fancy high rise.

Sharon nods slowly, "Where are you coming from?" Her tone quiet, even, nearly monotone.

"Office party." The plaid shirt folds her arms, it's a lie, Sharon knows it's a lie, "Lots of drinks, but I think he might have done something else." She shrugs, "Don't know what." She slowly smiles, "You're really beautiful."

She nods again, "You don't know if he consumed anything else?"

"Two of them got high in the bathroom." She motions to the skirt and the young man on the sofa.

"I got high with Rusty in the bathroom." The skirt replies softly.

Sharon moves over slowly, "Don't move." She says quietly, as she looks down at the boy, "He willingly consumed alcoholic beverages?"

The plaid shirt begins to laugh, "He didn't even know. He kept chugging cokes and we were putting a little of this and a little of that in there." She shakes her head, "Look, why do you have a gun anyway? You a cop? Part of the Cartel?"

"How did you know to come here?" Sharon watches the two young women, carefully, unsure if they would try to harm her or steal anything from the apartment.

"It was on his license." The broad shouldered woman answers matter-of-factly.

"Did he have any baggage, luggage with him?"

"No, not that I saw."

Sharon knows she's telling the truth, for the most part, something in her eyes. "So, marijuana and alcohol?" When the young woman nods, "Are you sober?"

"I drove here."

"That wasn't the question."

The plaid shirt nods, "Allergic to the stuff."

"Driving safely, I want you to go home. If your friend starts wheezing, hyperventilating, breathing slowly, or getting a rash, I want you to take her to the hospital immediately." Sharon slowly lowered herself in front of the sofa, stroking Rusty's hair, "Have a pleasant holiday." She watches the two young woman exit her apartment via her peripheral vision.

"The hell was that?" Andy exits the bedroom, clad only in boxers. He places his hands on his hips.

Sharon swallows, stroking the young man's hair, "They were dropping him off. He's baked...drunk. I don't know if he took anything else. If he did, they didn't know about it."

He snorts, "Sounds like a party." He walks closer, turning on the lamps near her, "Sam?"

She shakes her head slowly, "Rusty." She leans forward, softly kissing the young man's brow, "Andy, you go ahead back to bed. At least one of us will be able to function in the morning."

"Then you should. I mean...it's Christmas Eve tomorrow. Nicole has the thing, which will be different with my own grandchild." Andy smirks, "You're the Captain. Your job is more important."

Sharon glances up to him, "I'm not going to be able to sleep, even if I tried. It's okay." She starts to slowly get up, "I need to get a bucket, some water, and a towel."

He waves for her to sit back down, "I've stayed here enough times to know where things are."

That aspect of their relationship terrifies her, even after six months, it still does. She really likes Andy. Since the finalization of her divorce, she's entertained the notion of spending time with him on a romantic level. He's good hearted, funny, and her grandchildren love him. However, since Rusty was still away at college and Samuel was busy with his new job as a librarian, the only know to know more of the details of the relationship was Quinn. Thankfully, her daughter has never been one to gossip. Not to mention their constant need to keep it professional at the office. However, there are more pressing matters to worry about, such as why didn't Rusty bother to tell her he was coming home for the holiday and what party could he possibly been to? Sharon slowly removes the young man's shoes.

Andy carries the things she needs and sets them on the coffee table, "Wouldn't it be better to get some cool water on him, maybe stay in the bathroom if he starts to puke?" He folds his arms, "When he starts to puke?" He corrects himself.

"I can do it. You have a bad back." She shakes her head.

He raises an eyebrow, "Yeah, but if I hurt myself, I can bet on a backrub from you later." Andy slowly loops his arms under that of the young man, groaning when he slowly drags him off the sofa.

"Andy, please be careful." Sharon gently touches the older man's shoulder, "Don't try to lift him to put him into the clawfoot tub, just drag him under the shower."

"I know." The man grunts again, "It's cute that you think I'd lift this lug up more than I already have to." He shakes his head, "Get him some clothes to change into, maybe. Wet jeans are never comfortable."

"You're right." She nods, "I'll take two minutes. Wait for me." Sharon scurries to the bedroom, surely there had to be something either Rusty or Samuel left behind from their time in the guest room. She nods, managing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt, knowing it's usually what he wears to bed. She removes her silk robe and pulls on a longer t-shirt. Not her usual cotton nightgown, but it will have to do.

Andy waits for her, able to drag him into the glass shower. He turns the water on when she finally reaches the room, "Come on, Rusty." He calls to him, "Come on, kid."

Sharon swallows, hearing Andy. She moves closer, kneeling outside the draining area of the glass shower, "Rusty, honey."

Rusty hears Sharon. He knows her voice, very well, too well. He slowly squirms under the cold temperature of the water, "The fuck is this..." He mumbles, hearing the water being turned off. Rusty blinks slowly, smiling to her, "Hey."

"Hello." She smiles, reaching in and gently pushing back his wet hair with her nails.

Rusty's eyes open more, feeling the acidic bile rise in the back of his throat. He scrambles to his knees, a forceful vomit leaves his lips over the drainage area of the shower, "I feel sick."

"Good." Andy mumbles.

Sharon gives the older man a look, "I've got it from here. Go to sleep."

He nods, leaning down and kissing her lips softly, "Goodnight. Wake me up if you need me." Andy leisurely leaves the enclosure of Sharon Raydor's bathroom, returning to her bedroom. Very aware that the kid isn't going to be used to his presence, or maybe wouldn't even want him there. They'll deal with it tomorrow.

_Retching. It was becoming an almost nightly occurrence. However, she wasn't the one it was happening to this time. Sharon rises from the bed of the small two bedroom apartment she shared with her husband. An unmistakable sound, she heard it again. Reaching the bathroom that was just off the master bedroom, she sees her husband, the same husband who she hasn't seen in nearly a month. "Jack?"_

"_Stay back. Stay back. I don't want you sick." Jack slurred._

_She rolled her eyes, the distinctive smell of whiskey permeates the air, "Yeah, what's wrong with you?" Sharon folded her arms over her pregnant belly, "It's two and...I thought you left. The clothes were gone from your drawers...you left a suit in the closet." She made a disgusted face when he lurched again._

"_Fuck." He groaned, resting his face against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat._

_Sharon moved closer to him, slowly kneeling next to the man and rubbing his back, "How much did you have?"_

"_Don't remember. Enough." He continued to slur, "They just kept coming and coming and I couldn't stop them. It was so hard. I was on a roll, Shar. I was on a fucking roll. Up three hundred, at least."_

"_And where did that go?"_

"_Don't even know. I won and I don't even know where it went." He shook his head, then rested it on the other side of the toilet seat so that he could look at her. A smirk slowly crept across Jack's face, "You're so beautiful, Sharon. So beautiful. Your husband is so lucky."_

_She rolled her eyes, "Maybe he is, but I'm not." Sharon shook her head, watching him, "Take your clothes off. I'll go and get you some water."_

"_Aren't you gonna let me kiss you first?" He hummed a laugh, "Ordering me to take my clothes off like you're some kind of police officer or something. You just miss me."_

"_Jackson, there will be no, under any circumstances, sex for you at the end of this night. Quinn is asleep, keep your voice down." She stood slowly, using his back as leverage to do so before walking out._

Quinn Raydor reaches a hand over to her vibrating mobile phone. She swipes her finger across the screen before bringing it to her ear, not looking to see who was calling, "Hello." She blinked, "Where are you?"

"Who is it, baby?" The low tone voice of the man in bed with her mumbles, keeping his eyes closed. A hand possessively around her middle.

"Quiet, Tate." She whispers to him over the phone, "Jack, I'll be there in a half hour." Quinn touches the screen of the phone, sighing as she slowly drags herself out of bed, turning on the bedside lamp to the lowest setting.

"Who was that?" Tate's groggy voice fills the room as he rubs the place where she was sleeping with his hand, he playfully whimpers.

Quinn sighs, "If I'm not back in time, I'm going to need you to get the kids up and going this morning. That okay?"

"Of course." He turns over, watching as she gets dressed, shielding his eyes from the light with his other hand.

"They'll be up in a few hours." She pulls on her bra and panties. Then a pair of jeans she wore the night before to her company's holiday party, "But if they aren't up by nine, wake them up at nine."

"I know how things work, I've lived here a while now." Tate sits up, rubbing his face, with his large hands, "Slow down. Who was that on the phone?"

Quinn throws her purse onto her shoulder, sighing as she opens the bedroom door, leading to the hallway, "That was my father. He's been arrested."

_Sharon entered the visiting area of the prison, smiling broadly to her daughter. She hugged the young woman closely before she sat down, "Why does it always seem like the time is getting longer and longer between the times I'm able to visit?" She held the young woman's hand, making sure her badge was easily seen before she even came in so that the guards wouldn't try to hassle her._

"_Seems that way." Quinn nodded, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, "How are the kids?"_

"_They're doing great at daycare. Finn is more of an independent player...as they like to call it-"_

"_He's a loner. Big fucking surprise."_

_Sharon smirked, "Exactly, and Harper was placed in time out the other day for smacking a little girl across the face when said other girl stole a carrot from her bowl." She hummed a laugh._

_Quinn giggled, "You're kidding."_

"_Not at all."_

_The young woman laughed even harder, "That will teach her not to steal someone else's food." The joy slowly tapered off, "Any word from Rusty or Sam?"_

_Sharon slowly shook her head, "Well, Rusty calls almost everyday. He's doing really well, he says. I think he misses home though. Sam...you know how your brother is. I won't find anything out from him until it's too late."_

Rusty slowly begins to stir, sore. Where was he? This all looks familiar, but not familiar enough. He looks up, seeing Sharon. He's lying with his head on her lap. He's comfortable, but can feel the aftereffects of vomiting, his chest hurts, his back hurts from sleeping on the tile. Rusty just breathes, not wanting to move. He knows Sharon will hurt more than he does. He closes his eyes again.

Sharon absently brings her hand to the young man's face, stroking the hair at his side burns. She leans against the glass door of the shower, having slept here all night, legs folded with her son's head in her lap, her head tilted to the side. She begins to move her head, moaning when she feels a sharp, shooting pain from the position she slept in.

The young man wraps his arms around her waist, more comfortable as he holds her closer. He worries about her.

She hums softly, feeling his arms. Sharon continues to stroke his head, "Good morning." Her deep groggy voice of gravel says softly, "How do you feel?"

"Like shit." He keeps the tone of his voice down, his head pounding from the light illuminating the room through the closed window slats.

"Want me to get you some aspirin and water?" Sharon manages to lean over, kissing him softly above his ear. Her back hurts, but she wouldn't dare complain, not with her son in pain.

"Don't want to move...don't want you to move either." Rusty says softly.

"It can be darker in the living room, you know." She smirks, keeping her voice low as well.

Andy walks to the bathroom after noticing Sharon never came to bed the night before. He knew she would do this. He knew she would stay with the kid through the night. His loafers click against the wooden floor before he peeks his head into the bathroom. The kid is probably hungover. "Feeling better, kid?" He calls into the small space.

Rusty moans, wanting to cry almost. He's never felt like this before and he never wants to again. He doesn't even know why he feels this way.

"Not funny." Sharon glares toward the older man, keeping her voice low.

"Sorry." Andy smirks, lowering his tone and placing his hands on his hips.

"I called out today." She nods to her boyfriend, letting him know she's going to take care of Rusty, but she would never make the young man think he was the reason for her to miss work, "I have some last minute wrapping to do and things. Give my apologies to everyone."

"You got it." He leans down, giving her a peck on the lips, "Call me if you need anything. I mean it."

"Thank you." Sharon smiles softly to him, watching him walk away.

"He was here all night?" Rusty mumbles.

She hums a positive sound, "Is that okay with you?" She isn't mocking him, or even teasing him.

"Yeah. I'm glad." He groans when he moves a little, "Can we go lay in bed or something? Watch TV? Go back to sleep?"

Sharon nods, chuckling softly to herself, "My bed it is, then."


	2. Chapter 2

Quinn Raydor walks through the sliding door of the police precinct. More than a half hour away, yes, but she tried her hardest. She doesn't understand why her father would possibly be arrested. Though she is no stranger to prison, she doesn't like the idea of it possibly running in the family. She stops at the round front desk, a few meters from the door. She watches the secretary, dressed in a police uniform except with a white shirt. She waits for the young man to end his phone call, her hand on the countertop.

The young man, his badge saying Biers, looks up quickly, then grins more as he examines the woman in front of him. He finishes his call quickly, placing the receiver on the base. "Hello, Ms. What's could I possibly help a woman as beautiful as you with in a place such as this?"

She raises her eyebrows a little, "I'm here to bail someone out."

Biers nods slowly, "You want to go underground. I'll walk you-"

"I can walk myself." She walks past the desk.

"Wait a minute." He calls to her, motioning her back to the desk, "You need to show me some form of identification and you need a sticker that says you're a visitor."

Quinn knows news of her father's arrest would spread quickly throughout the rest of the station, even because of her presence. She sighs softly, "I already have a pass here." She shows him her driver's license.

Biers furrows his brow slightly, looking her up in the computer database in front of him. His eyes widen slightly, "Sorry for the trouble." He hands her a piece of laminated paper with a silver clip attached to the top, as well as her driver's license..

She clips the paper to the bottom of her flowing shirt, "Yep." Quinn sighs, folding her arms as she walks to the elevator, pushing a button, and staring to the ceiling of the elevator car.

"Hold that door."

Quinn quickly tilts her head down, glancing to the old man walking quickly toward her. She smiles slightly, "Lieutenant Provenza."

The older man smirks when he notices just who the girl is, "It's..." Provenza checks his watch as he stands next to her, "It's seven in the morning. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Merry Christmas Eve to you too." She smirks, "I could ask you the same question."

He glances to the buttons that have been pushed, "Your mother called in that she wasn't going to be able to make it and we got a call out. Been here for an hour already." Louie nods, "Who was arrested?" He wouldn't ask the question if they weren't the only two in the elevator.

Quinn swallows, "Does it matter?"

"No...but I'll just go upstairs and find out anyway."

"Jack. I don't know why yet."

Provenza nods slowly, "Want me to go down there with you?"

She offers the man a smirk, with a humming laugh, "No, Lieutenant. I don't want my possible yelling at Jackson Raydor to cloud your opinion of me."

He chuckles to himself, watching as the doors open, "Have a good holiday, Quinn."

Quinn offers a quick wave of her hand, flexing her fingers to him before walking to where she needs to go.

"_I'm only trying to help, sweetheart." Sharon closely followed her nearly teenage daughter, "You're twelve. I'm...I'm much older than that. I have a few more years of experience when it comes to things like this than you do."_

_Quinn continued to walk ahead of her mother, arms folded, angry look on her face, "You embarrassed me."_

"_I embarrassed you?"_

"_Did I stutter?"_

_Sharon rolled her eyes, "You're acting like a toddler."_

"_I am not. I wanted to come here and pick out my own bra, because you said I could, and you tell me that I'm being a brat for being angry with you because you aren't even following up on your own promises. I know what I want, Mother. Red lace isn't too mature for me, it's red lace. There's no age requirement for red lace." Quinn suddenly stopped walking, glaring at the woman as she motioned behind them with a wave of her arm, "And then we had to bring that idiot. Do you know how hard it is to do things with your ten year old brother following you and playing his GameBoy at it's loudest setting? How hard it is to pick out underwear while he's cheering his own accomplishments he's making in a video game? Do you know how hard it is for me to refrain from beating him up every time I see him just for being a moron?"_

_She swallowed, combing her fingers through her hair, "I wish you didn't feel the need to resort to violence, but I apologize, honey." The level of her daughter's intellectual capability has always amazed her. Sharon didn't know what she could possibly say that would make the girl feel better._

_Quinn stared, her eyes watering, "It was supposed to be just us. We were supposed to spend the day together. You named it and everything. Girls' Day. I thought he was going to go with Dad."_

"_Something came up with your father at work and he wasn't able to take him." Sharon bit her lip, "We can reschedule our Girls' Day...besides, it hasn't been that bad."_

"_He's always busy, but I don't think he actually is, I think you're just used to making excuses for him.." Quinn turned slowly, walking away from her mother again, "As for today, it's been terrible."_

Sharon gently strokes Rusty's hair as he rests, noticing his feverish temperature as she lies next to him in her bed, tracing his features with her finger. She smiles softly when he opens his eyes. His neck is thicker, she notices, his jaw more square, his shoulders more broad. Not much, but enough that she is able to notice, and probably just her.

The corner of Rusty's mouth turns up as he blinks lazily. "Hey." He mumbles, watching the woman's worried face, "You're home?"

"Of course I'm home. I wasn't about to leave you here alone while you're so sick." She continues to stroke his dark blonde hair, "Are you able to remember anything from yesterday?"

He watches her, but gains a blank look to his eyes as he thinks, "I...I grabbed a taxi from the airport...shared it with a few people. It didn't bring me here. There was a party...I tried to go, but...they kept pulling me in." Rusty sighs, leaning against her still. "How did I get here?"

"Two girls brought you home. They said you were high and drunk."

"I didn't drink anything though. I don't like alcohol...I don't know about high. I don't remember."

Sharon nods, "I know, honey. I'm not angry. Just worried."

"Did they bring my bag? It has everything." Rusty feels his chin tremble slightly when he sees her shake her head negatively, "No...seriously?" The faded camouflage knapsack had turned into a type of security item for him throughout the years. It was the only absolute constant through the troubles with his mother, his years with his night job, his movement from house to house with foster care, and finally here where he was able to be home. He begins to crumble more.

She knows just what that bag was for him. She's known it from the beginning, she's known it since every time she offered to buy him a new one, he would turn her down and not give an explanation when she would tell him it wasn't bribery. Sharon holes the young man closer, "I'm sorry, honey." She kisses his hairline at his forehead, feeling herself well up from his pain, "I'm so sorry."

"All my fault." Rusty sniffles, shaking his head, "My laptop...my...my frakking theseus...my clothes..."

"Honey, those are all things we can replace. What's important is that you are safe. Sick, but safe." She trails her hand from his hair to his back, "You don't remember where you were yesterday...neither do I. If we did, I'd be happy to take you to look for it. However, you are far too ill to do that." Sharon sighs softly, "And I want you to think about this, just because we lose something that means a lot to us, doesn't mean we lose the memories of that same object."

He holds onto her, feeling childlike with her even though he wasn't a complete child with her and he's certainly never been this close with her. His own mother wouldn't have done this even if he had asked her to when he was small. Rusty clears his throat, "You're right."

"Let me write that down somewhere." Sharon teases, smirking softly. "If you haven't noticed, I'm the one who changed your clothes yesterday. I don't want you to think you showed up as such."

Rusty picks his head up, letting her wipe the wetness from his face with her thumb, "Were we on the bathroom floor too?" He continues when she nods, "And was Andy here...giving you a kiss before he left?"

Sharon blushes, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "Yes, he was."

His facial expression doesn't change much with exception to a smirk, "So...are you guys like...living together?"

"No, he still has his own apartment."

"Let me rephrase, is he here four to five out of the seven days of the week?"

"Sometimes...sometimes less." Sharon watches him.

"Really?" Rusty raises an eyebrow, surprised she would even entertain the notion of being with the man.

The woman sighs softly, "I figure honesty works almost every time."

"_Oh, come on, Sharon. It would just be for a few months. That's all I'm asking." Jack followed his wife around their modest home, begging his estranged wife._

"_Absolutely not." Sharon shakes her head, opening and cleaning out her children's lunchboxes._

"_It would be good for the kids!"_

_She glares to the man, "You haven't done much but spoken to them on the phone once in the past three months. Don't pretend you care about our children right now."_

"_I care about my kids!" Jack shook his head, "I was on a roll, Shar. You gotta understand."_

"_No, I don't." Sharon makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, "You have an eight year old daughter and a five year old son. You haven't attended their last two birthdays...three for Quinny, couldn't even be bothered to send a card. Don't worry though, Jack, I put your name on one of my gifts instead of my own so that they don't think their father is the most inconsiderate man in the world...so they don't know the truth."_

"_I owe you one."_

"_Yes, you do. In fact, you owe me a lot by now, wouldn't you say?" She places the sandwiches in clear plastic ziplock bags as well as carrots for her son and grapes for her daughter into baggies as well._

_Jack nods, "Exactly, which is why you should let me stay with you. Let's try this again."_

"_I've fallen for that too many times and it's rather old by now." Sharon brought her finger to her lips when she noticed peanut butter on it, "In fact, we have a beautiful five year old son to prove it." She licked the bit of peanut butter, placing a juice box in each and putting them into the refrigerator, ready for the morning._

"_You can trust me though, Sharon. Let me take the kids to school tomorrow...or...I can pick them up for you. You're still doing the police officer thing, right?" He offers._

"_My parents are coming to stay with them during that." She gives him a look, "You know what the most terrible part, Jackson? Sammie asked me yesterday why all the other kids' fathers love them and you don't love him." Sharon swallows, shaking her head a little with a bitter smile, "What do you say to that?"_

_Jack studies her, "What did you say to that?" His voice quiet, the notion that he didn't love his children coming from his own child._

"_It was Dads and Donuts...I penciled in a mustache, pulled my hair back, and filled in for you...just like I always do." Sharon stared at him, "You don't get to stay the night when you don't even want to try."_

"_You can't just shut me out!" He scowls._

"_If it protects my children from being hurt over and over again, I can and I will." Sharon walks past her estranged husband, bouncing up the stairs._

"Are you going to let me explain myself?" Jack follows his daughter through the parking garage, slurring his words.

"Don't speak to me, don't look at me." Quinn shakes her head, "I am so fucking angry with you right now, Jack, that I'm afraid of what I will do to you if we actually do converse." Her voice and tone level, scaring the man even though she wouldn't look to him.

"It was an accident!" He calls, his voice echoing through the large parking structure.

"Okay, you really want to do this?" She turns, her face neutral, "You don't accidently get drunk off your ass with whiskey. That is a conscious choice. You don't accidently attempt to pick up an underage prostitute."

"I thought she was eighteen." Jack watches her.

Quinn shakes her head, "They have her on record telling you she was sixteen because she was working with the fucking police and they have you on video..."

He smirks slowly, "Sharon, you are looking so hot lately." Jack shakes his head, still slurring his words. When he gets hit by the young woman's purse against his arm, he continues. "Ow. Come on, Shar!"

"I'm not your wife...I'm not your ex-wife. You know that or else she would have let you fucking rot in there." She points to her vehicle, "Get in the car."

"I can walk. It's not that far." Jack tries to walk past her.

"Jackson, get in the goddamn car!" Quinn finally yells at him.

Jack's shoulders slump ever so slightly and he looks out of the top of his eyes, climbing in as instructed. "If you're not Sharon, you sure do sound like her...and look like her."

"I guess so, you were a fucking idiot then and you're a fucking idiot now. Buckle up." She instructs him, "And don't even think about throwing up in this car."

"Are we going home?"

"You are going to my condo so that i can ensure your presence tomorrow for Christmas. If you act up once, I will make tomorrow complete hell for you."

Jack pouts slightly, "I don't have anything to wear."

"When you sober up a bit, I will be more than happy to take you to your apartment so that you can pick what you want." Quinn nods, seeing her father more regularly was attributed to his moving back to Los Angeles from Las Vegas. Since the divorce, he seemed to be making a valiant effort to be there more for his grandchildren, "Until then, you're going to sleep this off in my bed...or on the sofa. Whichever, but it's happening."

"Sharon, you can't just make me not wear anything. We have kids to worry about." He shakes his head.

"What are you slurring about? Also, for the...I've lost track of how many times now, I am Quinn." Her tone exhausted of correcting the man. She pulls out of the parking spot, showing the visitor's badge so she doesn't have to pay for parking before she pulls onto the road.

"Whatever you want to call yourself. We should get drinks sometime." Jack watches her, his head tilt to the side as he stares.

"Stop flirting with me before I dropkick you."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know...maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm your fucking daughter. I don't know." Quinn shakes her head, pulling her glasses on from their position in the cupholder. Her tone calm, even dismissive.

"She's little though." Jack shakes his head, "Smarter than me and she's like...five or something."

She smirks slightly, "Seriously though, shut up." She picks up her phone, touching her mother's face on the screen to speed dial her. Quinn places her bluetooth piece into her ear, paying more attention as she drives, occasionally throwing her arm across her father's chest to hold him back.

Sharon continues to hold onto Rusty who flinches at the sound of her vibrating phone against her bedside table, 'Sorry." She shakes her head, swiping her finger across the screen before bringing it to her ear, "Quinn, what's wrong?"

The young woman starts to giggle as her father sings along to the song on the radio, drunkenly. "Hey, did Provenza tell you I was just there?"

She furrows her brow, "No...I stayed home today. What's wrong?"

"Even better. I have a big idiot in my car who doesn't seem to want to realize that I am not you. I'm pretty pissed off at him right now." She pauses, "Hold on a minute." Quinn holds her phone to her chest, glaring to her father, "Shut the fuck up." She hisses, bringing her cell phone back to her ear, "Sorry about that. Anyway, I'll tell you everything when we get there. I just need help getting him situated on the sofa because I'm pretty sure I'm just going to end up hurting him."

Sharon shakes her head a little, not really understanding what or who her daughter was even speaking about. "I'll meet you in your apartment. How far away are you?"

"I don't know...about ten minutes depending on how quick traffic lets me get to this ramp. I was in the police station for a few hours."

"Okay, honey. See you then." Sharon touches the screen of her phone, shaking her head. "My children grow more and more bizarre with each passing day."

"What was that about?" Rusty croaks from his position on the bed.

"Quinn asked me to help her with something, Would you be okay by yourself for about fifteen...twenty minutes?"

He yawns, "I'm fine."

"I promise I won't be long. Keep your phone by you and call me if you need me." Sharon leans down, kissing him on the head. She pulls on some other clothes within her walk-in closet, out of sight from her son resting on the bed. Quickly, Sharon travels to her daughter's condo, opening the door to see an unfamiliar man holding her grandson in one arm and her granddaughter by her hand. She slams the door behind herself, "Who the hell are you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Tate turns to face her, smiling ever so slowly, "You must be Captain Raydor."

He's handsome, Sharon notices. Naturally tanned skin ever so slightly darker than that of her grandchildren with a shade of blue eyes that she's never actually seen on a person before. "I asked you a question." She notices that her grandson is letting the man hold him, which was proof enough for her that he was familiar to both children. She picks her granddaughter up when the girl runs excitedly to her.

"Das my Gigi." Finn waves to the woman, placing his head on Tate's chest.

"I can tell. She's as beautiful as your mother." The young man nods, walking closer to her, "I'm Tate Olejnik, Quinn's boyfriend." He offers her his large hand.

Sharon nods slowly, taking his hand and shaking it. "I apologize. I wasn't aware my daughter had anyone over. She just called me to help her when she gets here."

"She probably forgot I was here. You know how she is...smart as hell, remembers things that don't matter or are tied to academic merit, forgets the mundane."

She finds herself smiling softly, "Sounds like her." Sharon kisses her granddaughter's temple before letting the girl down.

"Tate, my haf nana?" Finn looks the man in the eye, picking his head up from resting on his chest.

"Sure, bud. Let's get you one." He nods to the older woman, "Excuse me."

Sharon follows them, amused with just how easy going and grounded the young man appears to be, "You said Olejnik? That's not a name I was necessarily expecting...no offense."

"None taken, ma'am." Tate smirks, giving the boy a half peeled banana, "Only touch the yellow part, not the top." He sets him down.

"My know." Finn rolls his eyes as he shakes his head, walking away from them to sit at his table set.

Tate huffs a soft laugh, walking closer to his girlfriend's mother, "It's my mother's name." He watches the kids while speaking to the woman, "My parents were never married. It just wasn't important to them...they were free spirits...hippies if you will. Had my eldest sister when they were still teenagers."

Sharon watches him, smiling more. He's polite, great with her grandchildren. This was a very different effect from her daughter's last boyfriend. Her phone begins to ring, which she answers quickly, listening, "Yes, I'm up here...You forget to tell me about something?"

"Tate...shit." Quinn quickly hisses, "I'll...I'll tell you all about it later. I'm getting him on the elevator now."

Jack follows his daughter closely, "Sharon, why didn't we just go to my place? I'm not allowed in the women's dorm."

"Oh my God. Jack, shut up." Quinn pushes him onto the elevator car, "I think you're doing this to fuck around with me now. I don't think you're that drunk." She folds her arms after pushing the button to the floor she shares with her mother. She ignores the man for the ride until they reach the eleventh floor.

Tate stands at the doors, smirking as it opens. "Hey, gorgeous." He flexes his bicep, "Your mother and I thought you could use a little muscle."

"My mother hasn't been too mean, has she?" The young woman offers him a soft smile.

"Who you callin' gorgeous?" Jack slurs, scowling at the young man.

"Yeah, so, Tate this is my drunk father. My drunk father thinks I'm my mother right now. So...just a heads up." Her voice drips with sarcasm, something Tate was instantly attracted to when he met her.

"So...should we just guide him or..." Tate shrugs, the condo of their destination at the farthest point of the hall.

Sharon walks to the outside of the door, motioning for her grandchildren to stay inside before she folds her arms and glares toward her ex-husband at the end of the hall, "Jackson." She calls.

Jack picks his head up and grins at the sound of his ex-wife's voice. He shuffles toward her.

"Well...that was easier than I thought it would be." Quinn smirks, laughing a little as her boyfriend wraps his arm around her waist as they walk, "I completely forgot you were there before I called her. I'm sorry." She laces her fingers through his.

Tate shrugs, "It was fine. It's your mother. Not Hitler."

"Some people aren't able to tell the difference." She shakes her head, watching her father.

Jack reaches the end of the hall, wrapping his arms around Sharon and pulling her into a kiss.

Sharon stands there a moment, shocked by his actions, "Sit on the couch and don't talk to the kids." She points for him, then folds her arms, looking to her daughter, "And you, young lady, have some explaining to do."

"Mom...I'm twenty-five years old."

"You are not." She shakes her head, "I gave birth to you. I know exactly how old you are down to the second."

"Yeah, but I can get away with shaving a few years off if you can." Quinn huffs a laugh to her mother as she walks through the door, pulling Tate behind her by their laced fingers.

Tate smirks to his girlfriend's mother, "Just for the record, I know how old she is too." He winks to her, picking up Finn when the boy runs and flings himself to the man.

Jack sits with a bounce, staring straight ahead.

Sharon watches her husband closely for a few moments before looking to her daughter, "What was he arrested for?"

"Solicitation of an underage prostitute...it was a police sting. He was drunk, so public intoxication." Quinn nods, "They're reviewing the charges. The girl that was working in the cells was someone you trained...Tabatha Wilson. She said she worked in FID with you. Said you're her top role model."

The older woman nods slowly, "She did, but I usually had her just bring me coffee or run errands because she was so young."

"Ah." She sets her purse down, walking to stand in front of her father, "I don't think I've ever seen him this bad. If I have, I don't remember it."

Sharon stands next to her daughter, looking for telltale signs of heart attack or stroke that could be happening across his face, "Just a few times. Not often. His favorite, expensive whiskey." She shakes her head, "I can't-"

Tate overhears the women, "Was it Lagavulin?"

She nods slowly, looking over to him as she slowly sinks to the floor in a crouch, "How did you know?"

"I used to be a bartender when I was in college to help pay for school and rent. Guys would come in, big wigs trying to impress clients or whatever or people who had just hit the lottery or come into money one way or the other...they'd order Lagavulin. $300 a bottle and in order for us to open it, you have to buy the entire bottle because we didn't want it to go bad. At least, that's how it was where I worked." The young man explains, rubbing Finn's back when the boy puts his head on him.

Sharon glances back to her husband, "Any time he did well in Las Vegas or at a game at home, he'd buy Lagavulin scotch. I don't know why, but it messes him up pretty badly. He has to sleep it off. He won't throw it up." She sighs, checking her watch, "I have to get back to Rusty."

"Rusty's here?" Quinn grins to her mother, "I didn't even pay for him to come or anything. This reaction is general surprise."

"Yep. Had a rough night, went to a party and they were slipping him alcohol...maybe something else. I'm not sure. He was running a fever when I left, but too weak to get out of bed." Sharon stands, sighing, "That's why I'm not at work right now."

"If you need me, let me know. If he wants something out, I'll get it so you can stay with him." The young woman nods.

"Me as well." Tate nods, "I don't know Rusty yet, but I've heard a lot about him. I'll have Quinn text you my number." He offers her a soft smile, "Also, charcoal capsules may help a bit. I have some in the bathroom if you want them...that way if he was given something else, they can suck it up."

"That would be great." Sharon nods excitedly, watching the young man walk off. She glances to her daughter, "Where did you find him?"

"Long story."

"That you will tell me later today, or tomorrow. I like him."

"He seems to like you too." Quinn folds her arms, "Didn't compare you to Hitler even once." She smirks.

"He lives here?" Sharon places her hands into the pockets of her comfortable cardigan. When the young woman nods, she continues, "Be careful with that."

"Mom, my children are over two years old. Tate is the most amazing guy I've ever met...not to mention he's handsome as hell. Chill out. I know what I'm doing."

"I never said you didn't, honey." She shakes her head when the young man reappears, "Thank you so much."

"There's a bunch in there." Tate nods, "I took a few out if you want to give something to the big guy." He motions to his girlfriend's father, "Might make him sober up faster."

Sharon nods, "Great idea. Also, Quinny, don't forget I have the party with Andy tonight which means you have some wrapping time allotted."

Quinn smirks, "I'm already done wrapping, but the alone time will be very nice, I assure you."

The older woman rolls her eyes, "I'll see you in a few hours." She walks toward the entrance.

"I'll stop by to see Rusty in a bit." The younger woman calls behind her before she closes the door.

Sharon shakes her head, "Tate Olejnik." She says to herself, for some reason the last name sounding familiar to her, "Olejnik." She says to herself again, sighing. She takes her phone from her pocket, touching the picture of Andy's face and the associated number she needed for him.

Andy Flynn smirks, noticing her picture, "Hello, beautiful."

"Tell me something, the last name Olejnik...does that ring any bells to you?"

He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head, "None that i can think of. Want me to look it up?"

"Lieutenant, it would be illegal of you to search an individual's history without proper cause." Sharon returns to her apartment, closing the door behind herself once she enters.

"Might be part of the Russian mafia." Andy smirks, "I think that's cause enough."

"No." She sighs, smirking, "See what you can come up with. Ask around if you have to." She touches the screen for the call to end. Sharon presses to text message the spelling of the name to him, at least what she believes the spelling to be.

Andy looks at the spelling on his phone, picking his head up, he looks to his coworker across from him, "Provenza, does the last name Olejnik sound familiar to you?"

Louie Provenza thinks for a moment before nodding, "Yeah...it does actually."


	4. Chapter 4

"You won't believe this." Sharon begins talking when she nears her bedroom door, only to see that her son who was once on her bed, has since vacated it, "Rusty?" She calls out, worry begins to rise within her when she doesn't promptly receive an answer, "Rusty, where are you?" She tops when she hears the refrigerator door close. She walks to the kitchen, "What are you doing up?" She sets the bottle of pills down.

The young man grips onto the counter top, "I was thirsty." His hand trembles slightly as he brings the glass of ice water to his lips.

"You couldn't have waited fifteen minutes?" Sharon gently touches the middle of her son's back, "Just leave that there, I'll carry it."

"I can't sleep all day." Rusty shakes his head, "It was more than fifteen minutes."

"Honey, you're sick. Staying in bed is just what you do." She smiles softly to him, "I can make us popcorn and we can watch a movie or watch whatever it is you want."

He sets the glass of water back on the counter, "Kay." He smirks, knowing he'll find the bloodiest, scariest movie he is able.

"When you're ready, I can make you some soup."

"That sounds like a bad idea." Rusty places a hand over her shoulder as they slowly return to the bedroom, "You were saying something when you came in, what was it?"

"Yes." Sharon pauses, trying to remember what she was going to say, "Oh." She giggles softly to herself for a moment, "Sorry." She shakes her head, "So, I go over to Quinn's with the intention of making sure nothing was in the way for when...whatever, and I see this very handsome man standing there with the kids."

"Have a crush on Quinn's boyfriend?" He smirks.

"Wait until you see him, you'll see how much I'm telling the truth." Sharon continues to walk with him back to her room, slowly, "So, I don't really get who this guy is, or why he's there. I do notice that he's wearing pajamas and is holding Finn."

Rusty smiles more, "He lives there."

She nods, pulling down the covers of the bed in her bedroom for him to climb in, "He lives there. Has manners, gentle, great with the kids. She may have actually picked herself a good guy. Who would have thought..." Sharon takes her shoes off before sitting on top of the comforter at his feet, "About six feet tall, mixed complexion...ever so slightly darker than the twins, muscular, and eyes that were like...turquoise."

He chuckles softly, "You should let Andy know he has some competition."

"Oh, stop." She playfully pats his leg, "I'm going to go and get your water and these charcoal pills that Tate gave to me for you."

"Your new young boyfriend prescribed you medication for me?" Rusty smirks.

Sharon rolls her eyes as she stands, "They will help you feel better, quicker."

"Good...because this kind of sucks."

"I suppose it would." She leans down, kissing him at his hairline before going back to the kitchen.

_Sam watched his mother as she moves about her FID co-workers as their boss. He had never seen her in such a powerful position before. Able to fire other officers just for one little mistake, sometimes. It was incredible. People feared her just by the mention of her name and position. All of eight, he sits on the edge of her desk in her office, holding his __hand held__ gaming system though not paying much attention to it. She made her way to the connecting conference room to her office. Sam was thankful he could continue to watch._

_A tall, silver haired man jumped to his feet, "Are you kidding? Of course the guy had a gun. If he didn't have a fucking gun, I wouldn't have shot him." The man yelled._

_Sharon sat there patiently, a neutral expression on her face. "Lieutenant Flynn, you're making a scene. If you would like me to hear you out and reassess the case in a timely fashion, it would be in your best interests to sit down...and quiet yourself."_

"_Taylor didn't call you?" He yelled again, speaking with his hands._

"_It doesn't matter what Captain Taylor does. he is completely irrelevant in this matter. He cannot say or do anything to jeopardize this case. He did not call me, however. Now. I have a seventy-two hour deadline that I need to meet in order to close this file. I would like for it to be over sooner than you would. She watched as he sunk back into the chair, "Thank you. Now, the gentlemen you shot and killed, you say had a gun on his person at the time of the shooting. Correct?" When the man nods, she continues, "Were there any distinguishing features to this gun? Could you tell the caliber or did it possibly have a decorative handle?"_

_Flynn leaned back into the seat, angry this was all going on. "Ivory handle. Silver barrel. Almost looked fake until he spun the __barrel.__"_

"_See? Was that so hard, Lieutenant?" Sharon offered him a soft smile._

_Flynn stands, "Doesn't matter if it's hard or not. Your job is to make our jobs a living hell. Always looking over our shoulders no matter where we turn because one step could be our last. One little mistake. How does it feel to know everyone here hates you..." He slammed his chair into the table, causing her to jump as he made his way out of the conference room._

_Sam bit his lip, watching her. No one should have to hear that. Not even his mother. He sets his system on the desk and uses the other door to run out of her office, chasing the man._

_Flynn stood at the elevators, arms folded. A sour expression painted his face as he watched the numbers lighten and darken, showing how close the car was._

"_Hey, Mister." The boy yelled at him, putting on his best angry face, "Mister Loudmouth." He calls again. It was a term his grandmother would always call him. He thought this would be the perfect time to use it._

_The man looked over, "Yeah?"_

"_You need to go and apologize to Captain Raydor." He points, speaking calmly yet projecting to get his point across._

_Flynn shook his head, "Scram, kid. I'm busy." He looked back up to the lights, "Besides, I only give apologies to people I mean to give them to."_

_Sam angrily walked closer, "You don't tell people mean things and you don't speak for the whole entire Police. You're mean with a red face and a big mouth and if you weren't mean, you wouldn't get in trouble." He kicked the man as hard as he possibly could in the shin._

"_What the fuck, kid." He hissed, grabbing his leg._

"_Go and apologize!" The boy yelled again, breathing heavily through his nose, his hands balled into fists._

_Sharon jogged of her office, wearing her heels, when she noticed her son wasn't at her desk like he was before. She sighed, grabbing her son and pulling him back, "Oh my God. Lieutenant Flynn, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"_

"_Get your crazy ass kid away from me." Flynn glared._

_She swallowed, knowing the response wasn't going to be receptive, "Samuel, apologize to Lieutenant Flynn."_

"_I only give apologies to people I mean to give them to." Sam glared, throwing the man's words back into his face, turning from his mother and walking back to her office._

"_Lieutenant, I-" Sharon paused, motioning to her son, "Are you really okay?"_

"_I'm sorry, Captain." Flynn mumbled, "Don't punish the kid too much. He's right to stand up for his mother." He moaned softly as he put his leg back down, limping slowly into the elevator. He nodded to the woman as the doors closed._

_Sharon stood there a moment, not exactly sure if she heard him right. Did he just apologize to her? Their third meeting in a month and he's apologizing. The corner of her mouth turned up slightly before she walked back to her office._

"Mom? You home?" Sam called out, walking into his mother's apartment, "It's your favorite biological son."

"In the bedroom." Sharon replies, not too loudly as to cause Rusty's headache to return. She strokes her foster son's hair, almost absently, glad he's managed to fall back asleep.

He walks to the room, standing in the doorway, "Hey." He grins, walking around and kissing his mother on the cheek, "What's wrong with him?" He motions to his brother, "Looks like shit."

"Sick...he's had a really rough night." She sighs, "Be nice, please." Sharon slowly slips out of the bed, and motions her elder son to the living room.

Sam follows intently, taking his jacket off and tossing it over a chair as he passes, "He need anything? Ginger ale, Saltines, Applesauce?"

"I have all of that. He's fine." Sharon shakes her head, then pulls him into a tight embrace, "How are you? I haven't seen you in months. It would be nice if you called more often...visited your niece and nephew..."

He nods, "Yeah, I've been great, actually." He grins, "I got my house back in San Diego, I've been made a manager on the building site, and I've met someone."

"You have?" She draws out, a smirk at the corner of her lips, "Tell your poor, old, information deprived mother all about it." Sharon motions for him to sit on the sofa, taking a seat next to him once he does, and holding his hands between her own.

"You should visit sometime. You would love it." Sam nods, watching her, "Three bedroom, balcony leading off of the master bedroom, a yard."

"Sammy, I've been to your house." Sharon shakes her head slightly, loving just how excited her son appeared.

"I have two dogs now. A little one and a bigger one, both still puppies. Jocko and Millie. I rescued them from a shelter drive." He grins still, "And it's...everything is perfect."

"Oh, honey, I'm thrilled." She rubs his arm gently, "Tell me about this someone you've met. Is she nice? What does she look like?"

Sam looks to her, pausing a moment, "How about a glass of wine first?" He stands, slowly edging his way into the kitchen.

The smile fades slightly, worried, "Why?"

"Wouldn't you like a glass of wine?"

"I no longer have any in my house. Why would I need a glass of wine, Samuel?" She takes her hands away from him, folding her arms, "Are you in trouble?"

"Trouble?" He laughs to himself, shaking his head, "Why would I be in trouble?" When his mother just looks to him, unsure of what to say, he continues, "Why don't you have wine anymore?"

"We don't need wine at the moment, Samuel. I need you to tell me why I need it in the first place." Sharon watches him intensely.

Sam shrugs, "To calm your nerves maybe..."

"Sammy, I am your mother. I brought you into this world after twenty-seven hours of hard labor. If you do not inform me of exactly what is going on with you in the next two minutes, I will take you out of this world." Her eyes soften as she tilts her head to the side. Her voice cool and calm, matched with a smirk.

"That's not even fair. What do you threaten Rusty with?"

"Samuel."

He sighs, sitting next to her again, "Fine." The one foot that rests over the edge of the sofa bounces with his toes, not necessarily intentionally, but without even realize he's doing so. Not even because he's nervous, "I'm not in love with a woman, Mom." His words slow, almost calculated.

Sharon huffs a soft laugh before breaking into a full giggle, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she usually does.

"Not exactly the reaction I thought I was going to get from you."

"Oh honey." She starts to calm down, placing her hand on his bouncing knee to calm him as well.

Sam continues to watch his mother, "For the record, I'm pansexual."

"That's a new one." Sharon nods, "Honey, I don't care who you fall in love with as long as they take care of you. That's all that matters to me. Here you had me worried." She sighs, comfortably sinking back into the chair with a genuine smile on her face.

"You're Catholic." He attempts to make a point.

"My best friend is a gay lawyer who always needs a scarf to match every outfit, as well as a different pair of glasses every day because he'll never wear the same pair twice in one week." She retorts, "Really, honey. I don't care...as long as you tell me all about them and don't keep them as secrets like your sister likes to do. Though, since the two of you share everything with one another and you don't think I know about it, I'm betting you knew about him already."

Sam shakes his head, "Not this time."

Sharon sighs softly, "She's being so secretive about this one." She stands, walking to the kitchen, "Glass of water, hon?"

"Do you have juice?"

"Orange, apple, or white grape?"

He turns in his seat to look to her, "I'm gone for like...nine or ten months and you suddenly have a juice buffet."

"They were here while you were here." She shakes her head, "For the twins."

"Apple." Sam smirks, "Hear from Dad?"

"Yes, he's over your sister's place right now." She answers simply, her voice low.

He furrows his brow ever so slightly, "What else..."

"What?"

"He's over Quinn's and what else?"

Sharon shakes her head, "Nothing else. Why does there have to be something else?" Her voice is too light, obvious to anyone who can hear her that she isn't telling everything. She carries the drinks back into the living room, setting his on the table and taking a sip of her own.

"And what happened to Rusty last night?" Sam wets his dry lips with his tongue before biting them together from within his mouth.

"Don't worry about it." She glances to her watch, sighing softly, "I have to call Andy and tell him I can't go tonight."

The young man leans back on the sofa, "Andy? That's still a thing?" When he receives a scowl from his mother, he continues, "Christmas Eve party like last year?"

"Yes, but hopefully he'll understand that I must cancel. I'm not leaving Rusty while he's so ill."

"Mom, go. I can take care of Rusty. Might give us some brotherly bonding time." Sam smirks, nodding, "Besides, I want to ask him about what happened last night."

"Which is exactly the reason why I'm staying here-" She looks to him over her glasses.

He laughs to himself, "I'm kidding. I'm kidding, I swear."

"You are not."

"I am." Sam stands, "Do I need to do a Scout's honor?"

Sharon begins to giggle as she speaks, "Honey, you dropped out of the Boy Scouts when you were ten. It doesn't really hold much clout with me anymore." She sighs, rolling her eyes slightly with a smirk, "Andy and I are taking the twins, which means we will be back early, but if he needs me, Samuel...You call me."

"You know I will." The young man watches her, "Go and start picking out clothes or whatever else you need to do." Sam smirks, "Really knock 'em dead tonight, Mom. I have no doubt that you will, but sometimes you need a little reminding."

She pats his hand as he gently presses it on her shoulder when he walks by, "I love you too, honey."


	5. Chapter 5

Tate wraps his arms around his girlfriend as they stand in the kitchen, leaning his head over her shoulder, "The kids are napping, I tucked your father in for his nap," He smirks when she giggles, "How about you? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Tate. There's been a cold going around at work. I wasn't exposed to anything last year because I was working here more." Quinn sighs, "I'm fine. I'll take more medicine when this one has run it's course, which will be in another..." She looks to her wrist watch, "four hours."

"You've had this one for almost a month and you don't throw up with a cold." He sighs, kissing just behind her ear, "I wish you'd just go and see a doctor."

"You're making a bigger deal of it than it is."

"How about we ask your mother what she thinks?"

Quinn raises an eyebrow, "Last I checked, Sharon Raydor was a police officer. Did she have a change of career that I was not aware of? Did she receive her medical degree? Is Sharon Raydor a specialist in internal medicine that I just...well...I had absolutely no idea about?" She teases him.

"Babe, you know what I mean. Being a police officer, she's had to take first aid and stuff just like I have with school, she even takes more." He shakes his head, moving from her to put a few things back in the cabinets, "Essentially, she could be an EMT if she ever wanted to give up the whole police thing."

"I am aware of such, Tate."

"So if you were to ask her for her opinion on what could be wrong, it's not like you're asking the teenager at the counter of Burger King."

"A person's job does not denote a lack of intelligence." Quinn shakes her head, "Nor does a better job mean the opposite. Neither does a college degree."

"I hate when you try to change the subject like I wouldn't notice and end up failing miserably." Tate shakes his head, turning around to face her, folding his arms, "Just see a doctor. That's all I'm asking. I love you and I don't like seeing you sick. If you don't want to go alone, I'll go with you. Whatever you want, babe."

The notion that another man could tell her that he loved her has always terrified her. Especially given her last situation. Of course she loves him too, but the last time she thought that, she ended up in pain and has equated the two ever since. Quinn bites her lip, "Yeah...okay." She doesn't want to know what's wrong. She really doesn't care about the illness. His touch doesn't cause her to flinch, his hold doesn't hurt. She doesn't feel the need to turn away from either of them. Maybe he's different. The young woman brings her hands to either side of her head, a sudden, throbbing pain spreads, "Where did you put Jack? Is he in our...in my bed or in one of the kids' rooms?"

"He's in Harper's room." He moves closer to her, gently placing a hand to her lower back, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. You're going to overreact, so I'm saying nothing." She shakes her head, "I'm going to go lie down." Quinn walks away from him, toward the bedrooms.

"I'll clean up out here." Tate watches her closely as she walks by, "But we're going to one of those quick med centers when you wake up. I will stay with you the entire time, but...I'm not going to watch you torture yourself anymore."

Quinn stops in her tracks. She doesn't turn around, simply standing there for a moment before completing her course of action.

_Sharon slowly climbed from her car, wincing at the pain from her side which she slowly covers with her hand. A police cruiser had smashed into a civilian vehicle that was in front of her, setting off a chain reaction with the other cars around it, including her own. "Hello?" She called, not hearing anyone, she looked to the people in the compact brown sedan, seeing just how injured they were. She reached a hand in the window, pulling the first of the four passengers from the car. She feels for a pulse on the second, partially ejected, the other two crushed. Sharon returned to the young teenager, kneeling, and feeling for a pulse._

_The teenage boy opened his eyes slowly, turquoise and shimmering. A stark contrast to the rest of his cut and bruised body. His mouth moved, but his voice was much too weak to be heard._

"_What was that, Sweetheart?" She moaned through her own pain in order to lean closer to hear him._

_He coughed, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, "Help them."_

Sharon snapped her eyes open, sitting up, while gasping for breath. The sun beaming through the windows. She stares straight in front of herself for a moment.

"What was that?" Rusty watches her carefully from his position on the other side of the bed, propped up on pillows more than he's been, "Bad dream?"

She nods. It wasn't a dream, or even a nightmare. It was a memory from some twenty years ago. "Something like that." Sharon runs her hands over her face, wiping the sleep from the corners of her eyes, "How are you?" She reaches to her bedside table, bringing her folded gold wristwatch close to her face, attempting to see the time.

"Getting there." He smiles softly, knowing she isn't able to see the small numbers of the wristwatch without her glasses, "It's four fifteen...if you're going to your party, you'd better start getting ready."

"Thank you." Sharon nods, fastening it onto her wrist, "Are you sure you're well enough for me to go? It wouldn't be much of a problem for me to stay here. I'm sure Andy would understand."

"You keep saying that like I'm five." Rusty shakes his head, "Do you not want to go?"

"I didn't say that."

"Didn't have to."

Sharon glances over to him, "It's Andy's first holiday as a grandfather. I don't want to screw that up for him."

"Not possible." Rusty watches her, "The only thing you've done for him is make him a better guy. Provenza says he isn't an asshole at work anymore, he's chilled out or whatever. More focused." He gives her a small smile, "That's all because of you, Sharon."

She shrugs, "He's been spending more time with his kids as well." Sharon scoots back, leaning against the headboard, "I'm so proud of him when it comes to that. They never understood as children and their mother certainly didn't help anything, but...Andy had his faults as well. Just have to move on...his kids understand that now."

"It's because of you." He closes his eyes a moment, "I'm going to go and get more aspirin. Pick something to wear."

"I already have. Everything is ready. Sam is going to keep an eye on you while I'm out."

"I don't need a babysitter." The young man scowls playfully, "You do know that, right?"

"And you know that I will have you watched until the day I die, right?" Sharon leans over, gently pressing a kiss against his brow, "I'll get your aspirin. Would you like some soup or something?"

"Nah, I'm fine. I can get it." Rusty glances to her, smirking when she gives him a look, "Or I can just stay here. I'm moving very slowly as it is."

"Much better." She stands, walking to the other room. Sharon picks her head up when she sees the television on in her sitting area with an animated featured on the screen. Sharon smirks, noticing the gray hair. She leans down to his ear, "The Little Mermaid? I never knew you had a thing for singing crustaceans and redheads with tails."

"Besides scaring the shit outta me, it's hard to believe you've never been in some secret agent stuff." Andy smirks. 

"Who says I wasn't?" She teases, leaning over the back of the sofa more to see her grandchildren relax against him, watching the movie with large cookies in each of their hands. "When did they get here? Why didn't you come and get me?"

"You were sleeping. Finn said he wanted to watch a movie about about fish, Harper wanted to watch about a princess. I gave them the best of both worlds."

"What a great detective you are, Lieutenant." Sharon kisses his silver hair before walking to the kitchen, "They're early. I was going to pick them up before we left."

"Quinn's boyfriend dropped them off. Real nice guy. Said he was taking her to one of those quick med things that have been popping up lately. Finn was even letting him hold him. She been with him long?"

"She doesn't talk to me about her relationships." She pauses at the kitchen's breakfast bar, "Why was he taking Quinn to a med center?"

"He said she's been sick...that he sent you a message, but you didn't answer. I don't know. He doesn't know me and I don't really know him. I wasn't expecting him to tell me much anyway."

Sharon nods, "Okay...fair point."

"Don't worry. I'm sure if something was really wrong, he'd take her to a hospital instead." Andy can hear the worry in her voice, "Though, if you're going to want to go check on her, better do it now so you have enough time to get ready."

"I'll just talk to her when we get back. I will message Tate and ask him to keep me informed." She places some things on a small breakfast tray, "Has Sammy been out?"

"For a minute to get some water. He said something about catching up on paperwork or something. I don't know. I wasn't paying much attention to be honest."

"_No, Jackson, I don't need for you to stay and you certainly aren't telling the kids." Sharon sat up on the hospital gurney, "Why are you here, anyway?"_

_Jack stood in front of her, hands in his jean pockets. "I'm your husband and your emergency contact." He pulled his hand from his pocket to use as he spoke, "In case you've forgotten."_

"_They shouldn't have called you." She mumbled, adjusting her position with a flinch._

"_Sharon, you were in a car accident. You have broken ribs and a gash in your head. You are very obviously in pain." He shook his head, "We need to tell the kids, you need to let me help you. I can take care of them?"_

"_You? Be a father? Well, Jackson, what could possibly make you go to such extremes?" Sharon groans, slowly moving from the bed, "I'm waiting to be discharged. Have you heard anything about the boy I was in the ambulance with?"_

_Jack watched her closely, "You need to sit back down and stop moving so much. Haven't they given you any medication?"_

"_I don't need medication. I need to investigate why an officer rammed his patrol into a vehicle filled with innocent civilians. I need to investigate whether or not that officer needs to be charged with vehicular manslaughter or homicide, Jack. I don't have time for medication or wallowing in a bed."_

"_Sharon-"_

_The woman placed her hand against the wall, attempting to steady herself and keep from pacing. She knew if she saw one of her own officers acting the same way, she'd have told them to sit down or even sent them home by now. She would have told them to take the medication and that there was nothing else they could have done. Sharon felt herself start to break down more. "I have to get the kids from school..."_

"_I'll do that." Jack shook his head._

"_No, you won't. I don't want Sam to think you're coming back...only to be heartbroken when he sees your bag gone, the bed containing just myself, and a__n__ envelope on the side table with his mother's name on it. You aren't going near him right now." Her voice was cold, tone level, nearly terrifying, "He wouldn't leave his room for three days. His friends would come to the door asking if he wanted to come out to play, and he just stayed in bed. He did his homework, which is already like pulling teeth and he's only in kindergarten, and then just laid there." Sharon closed her eyes a moment, "If he asks where you went, I told him you had a client in Las Vegas."_

"_This isn't about me, Sharon. This is about you and taking care of yourself. I am going to take care of you after I take you home."_

"_I don't need you to take care of me. I need you to take care of your children...I need you to be there for them."_

"_Sharon, take the fucking drugs." Jack folded his arms, knowing the source of her negativity was because of her pain level. Though, he also knew what she was saying was all true. "I don't want you going off on the kids."_

_She leaned her back against the wall, her eyes were open ever so slightly as she stared at nothing in particular in the corner of the ceiling, a tear slowly trickled down her cheek._

Jack stares through the window of the sports utility vehicle. His head wasn't so cloudy and for the most part, he doesn't feel very sick. He clears his throat a little before looking to the young man next to him, "So...I don't think I even know your name."

"Tate...Tate Olejnik." The young man smirks ever so slightly, relaxing in his seat as he drives, "You were pretty...out of sorts earlier. You feeling any better now?"

He shrugs, "Just glad to be awake. Why couldn't my daughter bring me?"

"She's been sick, Sir. She told me to take you and she would nap instead of my forcing her to a medic center..."

"I wouldn't expect any less." Jack huffs a laugh, "Neither my wife, nor my daughter, like to be told what to do."

"I've noticed." Tate grins. The car falling eerily silent for a few moments and they both begin to speak at once, "I apologize, Sir, go ahead."

"Just call me Jack." The man shakes his head.

"I'd rather not. I don't usually call people I respect by their first name."

Jack raises an eyebrow, "You sound like you're military."

"For four years when I turned eighteen, but I did it before that." He nods.

"Besides, how the hell could you respect me when you saw me like that?"

"Drunk? I've seen other people worse off. I was a bartender for a while. At least you were drinking good stuff." Tate shrugs, looking to the dashboard of his car when he feels his phone vibrate, "Show new text messages." He says out loud, seeing the touch screen scroll up, "Read."

The small computer that filled the dashboard of the young man's car proceeded to read the message aloud in a robotic, monotone voice, _"New Message from, My Love. Message reads, Would you mind picking milk up from the grocery. Call when you get there. I may remember other things by then. End text message."_

Tate nods, "Okay, reply to text message. Are you okay? Send message."

"You just talk to your car?" Jack raises an eyebrow, "Wouldn't it have been easier just to call her?"

"She won't answer a phone call, Sir. She'd much rather text message." He listens to the man, "This car has a great system that is able to interface with my phone. It comes in very handy."

"Well damn, I'll have to get myself one." He smiles a little, he notices the child safety seats in the rear passenger area. "Do you have my grandchildren often?"

"They're with me when Quinn works late...or if she's called in. If Captain Raydor is available, she usually takes them." Tate shrugs, "I love them though...as if they're my own. I hope to adopt them one day when we make it official."

"How come I'm just seeing you now?" Jack furrows his brow.

"Quinn said you wouldn't take it well and that it would be easier to hide that we were living together-"

The older man puts his hand up, listening to him, "'Wait a minute, you live with her?"

"My lease was up on my apartment. she told me not to re-sign and to live with her instead." Tate shrugs, a genuine smile on his face, "It wasn't a question and I wasn't about to say no to her. We've grown closer each day...I adore her and would do anything for her or the kids."

Jack grew quiet for a few moments, "You know about the last guy?"

"Yes, Sir." He answers simply.

"She told you about that?"

"There was a few articles in the newspaper about it." Tate swallows, "Besides, she has enough nightmares that I'd never ask her about it anyway."

"I'm only asking you because I'd hate for her to do the same to you." Jack folds his arms after motioning to his car.

He smirks slightly, "Sir, she had a pretty good reason last time." Tate slowly looks to him as they reach his car, and he puts his vehicle in park, "Believe it or not, I'm not a bad guy...if I change, I'll let you know."

Jack shakes his head a little, not moving, "i just think it's too soon for her, is all."

"If there's one thing I've learned in my life that has proven true time and time again, is that you can't hold onto the past because the future is much longer. We have to learn from our mistakes and forget about the ones that cause us to act irrationally because there's nothing we can do now about it. It's over with." Tate swallows, "i think that goes for this too. She isn't going to be able to recover unless everyone lets her move on and aren't just walking on eggshells around her."

The older man slowly exhales, "Maybe one day you'll know, hopefully you won't, but as a father, when ya walk into your daughter's apartment and see it covered in blood with a trail and knowing that almost all of it is from her...you never recover from that. You just don't. If I can't recover from it, I can't even imagine her dreams...or Sharon's...she found her." He grows quiet for a moment before continuing, "You hurt her or my grandkids just once and I'll kill you myself. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

Jack nods to the young man, "Thanks for the ride. Don't forget the milk." He lets himself out of the car.

Tate sits there for a few moments, watching as the man drives away.. He will ask her mother first. That's what Quinn would want anyway. He bites his lip before looking to his rear view mirror before backing out of the parking spot.


	6. Chapter 6

"Look at Grandpa's big guy." Andy beams to his five months old grandson as the large boy stands on his lap, bouncing, "Looks just like his mother."

Sharon smiles to the happy infant, "No, I think he looks just like his grandfather." She leans into him slightly, keeping an eye on the twins as well, who had managed to find a few playmates around their age. Of course, the occasional yelling from her granddaughter alerted her to their whereabouts in the moderately sized house. She notices the host begin to clear tables and clean up forgotten glasses. "Here, Nicole, let me help." She edges her sleeves up slightly.

"Captain Raydor, you're a guest. I couldn't possibly ask-" The young woman starts to shake her head.

"You didn't ask, I offered. There's a difference." She smirks warmly, piling odds and ends on top of one another as she carries them to the kitchen, "Your son is such a joy. Such a happy baby." Sharon smiles more, "If you ever need a night out, I'm sure I can speak for your father when I say we would love to keep an eye on him."

Nicole nods, "Dad has been visiting more often. I can't help but thank you for that."

"No, I have nothing to do with it. It's all him." She reaches up, pulling her jewelry from her hands and wrists, readying to submerge them in the warm soapy water, "He always wants for me to come with him and bring the twins, but I think the twins would be a bit much that often. My son likes to say she's evil and has an ability to detect weakness so she can eat those victims first." When she hears the younger woman give a soft laugh, she continues, "She's very sweet when given the chance."

The young woman folds her arms, "My father has been different since the wedding, when you came with him." She pauses, "That was you, right?"

"Yes." Sharon offers her the wet dish, "Want to dry and put away?"

Nicole smiles to her, taking the large glass dish, "At the wedding, and last Christmas, he introduced you as his 'friend' Sharon. This year, it's just 'this is Sharon'. Not "my friend Sharon' anymore. Subtle difference, sure, but still a difference." She snorts, laughing softly, "Sharon, relax. I'm glad you're with him. You're good for him...bring out the best in him and keeps any arguments from happening between my mother and him."

"His blood pressure medications help as well."

"I have to ask though, couldn't you get in trouble with his boss if he found out you guys were together?"

Sharon listens to her and begins to laugh to herself, then glances to her when she hears her nervously doing the same, "Just what has your father told you about his boss?"

"Not much. He doesn't usually talk about work when he visits." Nicole shakes her head, "Why?"

"My rank and name is Captain Sharon Raydor...his boss would be me."

"You're...And I just put my foot in my mouth." She tucks her hair behind her ear, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." Sharon offers a broad smile, "The answer to your question, though, is yes. Fraternizing with a subordinate officer is a very...risky slope. However, it usually only becomes an issue when arguments and inappropriate actions occur within the confines of LAPD department buildings or during work hours. He still is partnered with Lieutenant Provenza and is still a pain in the you-know-what with that man."

Nicole giggles, knowing very well some of the things her father has gotten into with one Lieutenant Louie Provenza. "Your secret is safe with me."

"_No, please. You have to stay awake. You have to stay with me." Sharon pulled the boy's upper body into her lap, watching as the car burned that she had pulled him from not long before. Tears filled her eyes, wondering if the people really were alive and she just couldn't find a pulse._

"_You...save them." His turquoise eyes stared into her brown shaded green ones, "Please." His voice was weak, his breath grew more and more labored, "Have to." He started to close his eyes, only to be shaken by her._

"_No, don't sleep. You have to stay awake. Where do you go to school? Do you have any pets?" She groaned when a sharp pain came from her side again._

"_You...you hurt."_

"_Nothing to worry about, I'm sure." Sharon started stroking the stubbled skin of his shaved head, "Do you play any sports?"_

"_You shouldn't hurt." He studied her face through half lidded eyes, "Not good."_

"_Honey, it's okay. I'll be fine." She swallowed, "My son likes to play t-ball. Do you play?" Sharon attempted to keep the boy awake, using any method necessary._

"_Yes." His words were slurred, "Not...not t-ball. Bigger than...than that."_

"_I can tell. How old are you?" Sharon bit her lip when more blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, "What grade are you in?"_

"_Twelve...Freshman."_

"_Oh...really? That's young. You must be very smart."_

_The boy's chin began to tremble as he started to shiver, "Everyone else...really dumb." He smirked quickly before his eyes began to roll back._

"_No...no, please...stay with me..." Sharon's chin trembled, "Please."_

Tate carries the groceries into the apartment, quickly putting everything in it's place, "Quinn?" He calls, "I'm home." The young man begins walking about, checking the kids' rooms, knowing he had given them to Sharon earlier in the day. He picks his head up, hearing the now familiar retching of his girlfriend. He sighs, going into the bathroom connected to the master bedroom. He stands just outside the open door.

Quinn pushes herself from the toilet, leaning her back against the modern, porcelain tub. She pants, attempting to catch her breath. Her eyes drift over to the man in the doorway and she offers a smile. "Hi."

He raises his eyebrow, "I have every intention of picking you up and carrying you to the hospital."

"All the way to the hospital?" She teases.

"You know what I mean." Tate walks in more, flushing the toilet, "Tell me why I shouldn't." He lowers himself next to her, wrapping his arms around his own legs.

"If I need to be hospitalized, I don't want to do it before Christmas. I won't do that to my kids again."

"Again?"

Quinn nods, "The...The stuff with their father...it happened on their first Christmas. Well, Christmas Eve...I left the hospital AMA on Christmas Day...went back the day after."

"They won't remember it." Tate watches her, shaking his head, "You don't have to worry about them remembering."

"That isn't why..." She shakes her head, "In all the pictures Mom developed, I look...I look like a monster. Bruises and cuts..." She swallows, That's not even...I wasn't there. Their first year of life and I was barely there. Hospital and court...and prison."

"They were...what, seven months old their first Christmas, right? They say kids don't remember anything under the age of three or four. Something like that. All that happened and they aren't going to remember."

"I will though. I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Every single..." Quinn sighs, "I missed their first birthday, I missed Finn eating spaghetti and meatballs for the first time, I missed Harper using my mother's Chanel lipstick to paint Rusty's face when he fell asleep on the floor. I have to rely on my mother's stories..and Rusty's letters.

"I thought you were only there for a month." Tate looks forward, listening to her still.

"I was, but during the court case, I was kept away for protection...then after there were some...art dealers who wanted to feature some of my charcoals and paintings I did during my term in their galleries." Quinn shakes her head a little, "I was no better than Jack...I just wasn't there for them. I pledged to myself that I'd never...I'd never do that again."

"You aren't." He shakes his head, "The kids will never have a Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving...Birthday without you. Not if I can help it."

"You can't promise a thing like that." Quinn smiles softly, "But I do appreciate that you want to try."

Tate nods, "I mean it. I'll protect you with everything...you and the kids." He pauses, looking her in the eye, "I love you more than anything...anyone."

"You're confused. No one wants an instant family. Men especially."

"I do." He shakes his head, "You would feel the same way if you didn't have anyone left." Tate swallows falling quiet for a moment, "How about I help you into bed? Something to eat...drink? We have to replenish your fluids if you're staying home."

_Eyes opened slowly, attempting to focus around the brightly lit room around her. Too bright. She winced, closing her eyes again. She could feel the presence of someone close by. She tilted her head over, noticing the man standing at the window. She began smiling softly, "Lieutenant Flynn."_

_The man turns quickly, "Hey." He offered her a soft smile. "How are you feeling?"_

"_I'm feeling." She released her breath slowly, "What happened? I was...I was in the interrogation room...with you and Detective-"_

"_Sykes?" Andy smiles a little, "Yeah. You had a seizure...few of em."_

"_Where's my mother?"_

"_She's with your kids. Your father was here not long ago."_

_Quinn closed her eyes, shielding them from the window's brightness, "Why are you here, though?" _

"_I told-" He paused, noticing the light was causing her pain, "Hold on." Flynn closed the blinds and curtains slightly, "Your mother was worried about you, but your brother had to leave and Rusty had been with the twins most of the day. Provenza and I decided we'd keep an eye on you."_

"_Without her knowing?" She smirked slightly when he doesn't answer, "You guys are pretty adorable...fawning over your boss like that."_

"_We're a squad...a unit...a family. We'd always be there for one another." He nodded, "I'm here with you all night."_

"_Yeah, but does she know you're here?" Quinn blinked heavily._

"_Does it matter?" Flynn folded his arms, toothpick in the corner of his mouth._

_She shrugged, "Guess not." The young woman attempted to adjust her position on the bed, moaning slightly, still injured from the days before, "Fuck." She murmured, "God, that hurts."_

_His eyes filled with worry as he motioned to the IV pole, "Press the button. There's Morphine or something in there." When Flynn noticed she couldn't quite find it, he walked over and pressed it for her, placing the device in her hand after, "Any better?"_

"_It will be..." Quinn exhaled slowly, "Thank you, Lieutenant Flynn. Thanks for making the pain stop."_

Flynn moves with his grandson in the rocking chair, the boy sleeping against him soundly. "You look just like your mother, you know. Down to the rosy cheeks and hair." He sighs with a soft smile, "I wasn't there for her like I should have been, and I didn't realize that until it was too late, but...I'm not making the same mistake with you. I promise. Things are...they're different now. I'm with Sharon and she's...she's really special to me. You liked her too earlier...I have no doubt that you'll continue on liking her."

Sharon folds her arms, listening to him from just outside the door with a smile.

"I mean, she's gorgeous, right? She's my boss and we can get in a lot of trouble for being together, but you know what...I don't care. I've worked for the department for a long time and they've wanted me gone for years...if they want to fire me over this, I could care less. Let them." Andy smiles more, "You're asleep though and I need to get ready to go, so I'm going to put you in your crib and do that. I love you though, bud. I love you with all my heart. I always will." He stands slowly, carefully walking over and placing the boy into his crib. He leans over the rail, kissing the infant on the side of his head before pulling the rail up and into place. Flynn smirks, walking to the door and closing it behind him. He jumps slightly when he sees the woman there, "Shit, Sharon. You scared the hell outta me."

"I'm sorry." She smiles warmly to him. "Did he fall asleep for you?" She knows the boy did, but wants to hear his answer.

"Yeah...he's a good kid." The man nods, looking to her, "How long have you been standing here?"

"Long enough."

"Oh...well-" Andy stammers.

Sharon grabs hold of his shirt collar and pulls him in gently, kissing him tenderly, but quickly. She pats his chest, "We have to get the twins home. They're turning into zombies down there." She walks away from him, hopping down the stairs.

He shakes his head slowly, watching her with a smirk as he follows her. The goodbyes with his daughter are actually warm and welcoming. They have come a long way than what they once were. The new presence of his grandson only helped them. Flynn carries Harper in his arm, the girl placing her head against his shoulder, "Thanks for coming tonight."

"I wouldn't miss it...and I don't think you could keep me away even if you tried." She smiles softly, holding her grandson's hand, who insisted he could walk to the car without needing to be carried, but seems to be moving at a glacial pace.

Andy nods, "What I said in the nursery-"

"Don't worry about it." She looks to him a moment, "Though, you should know, I feel the same way."

"_Mom!" The teenager yelled, staring at the media cabinet in front of his bed._

_Sharon knew he saw it. She peeked her head in, an innocent expression crossing her face, "Yes, sweetheart?"_

"_What did you do with my Play__S__tation?"_

"_What did I do with your gaming system?"_

"_That's what I asked." Sam folded his arms._

"_I think you meant to ask what you could do in order to recover your gaming system." Sharon nodded, walking away from the boy, she heard him eagerly follow her, "I'll give you a hint. I can't see the floor of your bedroom because of the clothing you decided weren't a necessity to put into your drawers or into the hamper." _

"_I'm not one of the cops that are afraid if you."_

"_No, but you are my son and you do know exactly what I can do."_

_Sam continued to glare at the back of his mother's head, stopping his following of her._

"_Also, you can carry that hamper to the laundry room and proceed to do your laundry. Your room will be cleaned to my specifications-" Sharon raised a hand in an attempt for him to stop and for her to complete her statement, also pausing her stride as well._

"_I will have to do it all day!" He attempted to protest._

"_Don't interrupt me, you know better than to do that." She shook her head, then completed her train of thought, "After you complete the cleaning of your room, to my specifications, you will write me an apology that you know will be worth my while and you will __vacuum__ not only your bedroom floor, but also the floor in the hallway, your sister's room, and my bedroom."_

"_That's not even fair! I'm not a slave!" Sam yelled._

"_I never said you were, however, by not sticking with your responsibilities, you have allowed them to accumulate and grow out of hand. Complete these things in a timely fashion, and I will be happy to reward you with the use of your gaming system once more." Sharon offered him a smile, "Think of it as a game and it might be easier for you since you're so good at that."_

_He glared harder toward her, "I'm going to live with dad."_

"_Well, honey, when you find him, give him my number."_

Sam sits with Rusty in his mother's bedroom, his legs crossed. He brings the chopsticks of Chinese food to his mouth as he keeps his face over the paper carton.

"What is that? It smells pretty terrible." Rusty makes a face.

"Chicken and broccoli. Want some?"

"I'm good, thanks."

Sam shrugs, "Your loss. I did get you beef with mushroom though. Want me to get it for you?"

"You remembered what I like?" Rusty raises his eyebrow, surprised.

"Why wouldn't I?" He smirks, "I have a memory like a steel trap, usually. Unless I'm high, but...No, that's not even true. I remember pretty much everything." The older man laughs a little to himself.

"Time is it, anyway?"

"Almost ten." Sam nods, taking another bite before continuing, "Mom text me about twenty minutes ago to say they're on their way. They're still going to take a while though." He raises his eyebrow, "You want some more aspirin or whatever?"

Rusty shakes his head, "Sharon worries about it too much."

"I promised her I wouldn't ask what happened, but that doesn't stop you from telling me by your own free will." He smirks a little.

"She thinks someone slipped something in my drink at this party...thing." He shrugs, "Something besides alcohol."

"Like...you mean like a mickey?"

Rusty laughs a little to himself, "Sure, grandma, a mickey."

"Okay. What do you think?" Sam picks his head up more, watching his younger brother.

"I don't really know what to think. She doesn't want to admit I have a hangover, that much I know. I don't really know what a hangover feels like, but I've heard stories from you and from her...from a lot of people. I think that's what this is. She thinks I'm too sick for it to be just a hangover."

"She has experience...plenty of it." The elder of the two speaks up, "With herself, with Dad...others..."

"Not my dad though. She doesn't have to worry about me when it comes to that." Rusty shrugs.

"She will though." Sam grins, "She'll always worry about her kids and drinking until she's blue in the face and though we know we don't have any problems or anything, it will always be on her mind. Typical mother issues."


	7. Chapter 7

Jack carries the gifts he had purchased for his grandchildren into his daughter's apartment, setting them under the tree. He had thought the others would be asleep, but is surprised to see the kitchen light on. He enters the other room, smiling when he sees his daughter at the middle island, "Feeling better?"

Quinn jumps, dropping her spoon into the large container of peanut butter, "Damn." She hisses, then picks her head up to look at him before plunging her hand into the large plastic jar. "A little hello would have been plenty to make me not shit my pants."

"Sorry, honey." He smiles to her, watching the young woman closely, "I thought you hated peanut butter."

"I do."

"Well, you're elbow deep in that jar..."

"I'm aware, Jack." Quinn pulls her hand out, "It's natural...with honey. There's a difference."

"You've had that type for months. You make the kids' sandwiches with it." Jack shakes his head, "You've been acting weird lately."

"That's so sweet of you to say." She teases, "Maybe I should have left you in that prison cell."

He rolls his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"And you know what I mean, Jack." Quinn picks her head up, shooting him a glare, "You were drunk. I thought you had been sober for a while now. Do you know how long you could have been put away? Mom saved your ass. Not directly, but her name saved you. Do you understand that?" The young woman shakes her head, "I've never been so disappointed in you."

"All I asked was how you're doing. If you don't want me here, just say the word and I'll go." Jack knows she's throwing blame at him to change the subject. Not that what he did wasn't bad or irrelevant, but she's like her mother in this way. When she's hurt or out of control of the situation, he's the easiest target of their frustration.

"I didn't say that." She shakes her head, "It's fucking Christmas...almost, and I have to wait for Mom and Andy to bring the kids back. Did you want me to help you put up the air mattress?"

"I can handle it." He watches her still, "Tom couldn't help you?"

"His name is Tate and he fell asleep. He's been...I've been relying on him too much as it is." Quinn mumbles toward the end of her thought, bringing her peanut butter covered hand to her mouth and running it against her tongue, "You know, earlier, you thought I was Mom." She smirks.

"I did?" Jack raises an eyebrow, "I didn't try anything, did I?"

She shakes her head, "Of course not. You did kiss Mom when she yelled at you though."

"I'm sorry, honey." He replies honestly, "What I put you through...I was an idiot."

"I'd like that in writing." A grin starts in the corner of her mouth, "Or a simple tattoo across your forehead."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jack smiles softly, nodding, "Will you answer my initial question though?"

"Which was?"

"How are you feeling?"

Quinn sighs, "I'm fine. I've always been fine." She picks her head up when he doesn't reply, only to see her father still looking at her, "What, Jack..."

"He's worried about you. The boyfriend." He shakes his head, "He lives here, sleeps next to you...not that I approve of that, but since you gave me two grandchildren, I can get over it..." He continues when he notices her smile, "I'm worried about you too. I mean, sure...shit has happened between us, happened between all of us, but you're still my little girl. I'm still going to worry about you."

"Just...just don't until after Christmas." She picks her head up, meeting his eyes, her own attempt to shield the fear that hides behind them, "I'll worry about it then. Just...just let us get past this holiday, please."

"You'll go and get looked at after?" When she nods, he does the same. Jack moves closer to his daughter, wrapping an arm around her as he places a kiss against her hair. "I'm just going to sleep on the couch tonight. That alright?"

"Of course. I just didn't want your back to hurt."

"Your mother's couch is the most uncomfortable-"

"It is not. It depends on how you sleep on it. You and Sam sleep like logs, so it isn't going to be very comfortable."

Jack shrugs, "If you think so."

Quinn leans her head against him as they stand there, "It is what I know. You're always welcome to go and sleep next to Tate." She giggles to herself, "He's a cuddler."

"I'm good right now. Maybe next time I stay over." He nods, "Care if I make a sandwich?" He motions to the large jar of peanut butter in front of them.

"Yeah, you can eat whatever you want, Dad, as long as you clean up."

Jack smiles to her, "You should go and sit down. Time is it?" He glances to the glowing numbers above the stove, "I'm sure they'll be back soon. Want to watch a movie or something while we wait?"

Quinn nods, "Thanks, Daddy." She walks around him, "If I fall asleep, wake me up."

"I can't promise I will, but I'll make sure the kids are taken care of." He watches her closely as she retreats to the couch. Jack can't help but shake his head slowly, laughing to himself. She is her mother's daughter.

_Andy Flynn glanced over to the girl sitting next to him, "What are you in for?"_

"_Murder,. grand larceny, grand theft auto. I robbed a few banks." The girl deadpanned, looking up to meet his eyes, "You?"_

_He couldn't help but chuckle, "What are you...seven or eight?"_

"_I'm twenty-eight."_

_Andy shook his head, knowing it's another joke, "What's your name? Honestly."_

"_Quinn."_

"_Quinn what?"_

"_Quinn Raydor. You?"_

"_You're one of the-" He stopped himself, not wanting to insult the woman in front of her daughter, "I'm Sergeant Andy Flynn."_

"_Ooo a rank." She smirked, mocking him, "You aren't really impressing me, you know."_

"_I wasn't trying to."_

"_You wouldn't have used your rank if you weren't." Quinn shook her head, "I'm fourteen."_

"_You're smart." He folded his arms, a toothpick in the corner of his mouth._

"_You get in trouble often."_

"_What makes you think that?"_

"_I can tell." Quinn nodded, "Besides, I read my mother's files when she sleeps."_

"_Why?" Andy raised an eyebrow._

"_Something to do." She smiled, "You should stop being an asshole. It isn't becoming and sooner or later...it's going to catch up with you." _

"_Does she know you read officer files?"_

"_Should she? Are you afraid of my vast knowledge of your past, Sergeant?" Quinn tilted her head to the side._

_He waited a moment before he answered, watching her, "Nah. Just don't go writing a book."_

"_Not yet, at least." She smirked, "Look, I know you're difficult and I know my mother isn't exactly the easiest person to get along with, but she has enough going on at home...maybe cut her some slack."_

"_Like?" Flynn didn't really care, but the Lieutenant has always kept her personal life secluded from her professional life, never wanting to mingle the two in the least bit._

"_Doesn't matter. You have your own issues, you shouldn't feel bad just because someone else does too. You should respect people for who they are...and stop being an asshole." The girl offered him a genuine smile, "Besides, I'm in for some many things already. Mess with her again and I'm cutting the break lines of your car."_

Andy walks around to her door, offering a hand to help her out. "I really can't thank you enough for going with me tonight."

Sharon smiles a little, "Do you still have the sweater and-" She takes his hand, climbing from the car with little effort, "Whatever it is you'd like to wear?"

"You gave me the bottom two drawers of your dresser and a small portion of your closet. I have plenty of clothes here." He meets her eyes.

"You're staying the night, correct?"

"Harper would be pretty pissed if I didn't." He grins, using the same excuse she usually gives.

Sharon hums a low giggle, "That's very true." She leans in, kissing his lips softly, "I'd be pretty disappointed as well." She opens the car door quietly as to not awaken the sleeping children.

Andy nods, "I can carry Finn if you want, I know he's heavier."

"Yes, but he's more likely to wake." She smirks, "He's fine. I'm not as weak as I look."

"I know that. I'd never suggest you were." He walks around, opening the door on the other side, taking Harper from her safety seat as quietly as possible. He walks with her to the elevator, the kids' bag over his shoulder. Andy keeps his hand on Sharon's lower back, "How is she doing? Did you talk to the boyfriend?"

"I'm hoping they're back at least. I haven't talked to Tate, no." Sharon shakes her head, walking off of the elevator and to her daughter's condo. She uses the key on her keyring, letting them in. She notices her daughter on the sofa, her ex-husband sitting near her, eating a sandwich, "Jack?"

Jack picks his head up, looking over to the door. "Hey." He brushes his hands of the crumbs over the plate before he stands, "Need help?" He offers Andy a nod, "Here, I can take her." He holds his hands out, gently taking the toddler from the other man.

"Andy, I'll be home in a few minutes. I just want to get them settled." Sharon hands the man her keys, giving him a knowing look that says more than a million words ever could. She offers him a smile as he places the bag onto the sofa, and lets himself out. Sharon does as she says, changing and tucking her grandson in, checking in on her ex-husband and granddaughter to make sure the same care has been taken. When finished, she goes to her daughter on the sofa, worried deeply for the young woman.

"She fell asleep not even twenty minutes ago." Jack tells her, his voice hushed, but still managing to strike her in the chest.

Sharon leans in a moment, smelling her breath, "Was she eating peanut butter?" When she sees the man nod, she continues, "She has an allergy...it's made her hate peanuts in general."

"She was fine." He shakes his head, sitting on the other sofa across from them.

She bites her lip, releasing a soft sigh, "Did Tate say-"

"I just got here an hour or so ago...little more than that. He was asleep. She didn't want to wake him."

Sharon raises her eyebrow, glancing over to the man, "Did she say if the doctor was able to tell her anything?"

"Shar, I don't think she even went anywhere. Not that she'd tell me, but...I just have a feeling that she didn't." Jack folds his arms, "Don't blame the boyfriend for this though, she's like you. Can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do and the more you try, the more you hate your life."

She smirks, amused, "Hate your life?" When he nods, she looks back to her daughter, "I'll remember that." She responds playfully.

"Only thing she said was that she feels like she's been relying on him too much." He sits back more.

"Ya know, I'm not a heavy sleeper." Quinn mumbles, opening an eye, "At least, not right now, I'm not." She opens her other eye, attempting to stretch on the sofa, "I told him to wake me up, if that's any consolation."

"How did your appointment go?" Sharon gently strokes her daughter's hair. When she receives a blank look from the young woman, she gives a knowing nod, "Why didn't you go?"

"I didn't need to. I slept it off. I was fine when I awoke." Though she's usually quick to push others away, her mother's presence is comforting, "I already talked to Dad about this."

Jack nods, when his ex-wife looks to him, "After Christmas. You can take her yourself then."

Quinn raises her hand, "I never agreed to that."

"You didn't disagree to it either." Sharon smirks.

"Yeah, and who is watching the kids?"

"You've got me, I'm sure Tom-" When both of the women correct him at the same time, he nods, "Tate...Your health is top priority here."

Quinn hums a laugh to herself, "Because I'm so weak...as you both know. I mean, I don't know how I bother to wake up in the morning. I don't know how I manage to dress and feed my two children every single morning, or how I manage to dress myself or go to work for that matter. Hell, how do I even manage to put one foot in front of the other?" Her tone growing more and more angry with each word.

"Quinn." Sharon warns.

"No," She shakes her head, sitting up, "You don't get to do that. You don't get to look at me and only see blood and bruises or me in a fucking hospital bed." Quinn looks from one parent to the other, "Do you understand how unfair that is for me as a parent...as a woman?"

Jack rolls his eyes, looking to his wife, "That's all you."

"And I'm proud of her for it." Sharon nods, smiling softly as she watches her daughter still, "Honey, it isn't because of any of that. We don't question you because of what happened a couple years ago. We question your decisions because we're your parents and we love you. It's in our job description. Someday, you will do the same to your own children if you haven't already." She gently pulls the young woman close to her, placing a kiss against her temple, "You have a history of seizures. Headaches and vomiting make us worry."

"So does eating peanut butter without you breaking out in hives." Jack mumbles.

"Yes, exactly. So, we will wait until the day after Christmas. Then, if Tate doesn't take you, I will leave work to take you on my own. You're my little girl and I will always worry about you, just like I do with your brothers. I always will. Is that understood?"

Quinn nods solemnly, "Yes, Captain."

"Good, now you're getting into bed. Am I allowed to order you around even though I'm not a Captain?" Jack stands, smiling down to her, offering the young woman his hand to help her stand.

"Just this time." She smirks, "Night, Mom." Quinn takes her father's hand, letting him pull her up. "I'll see you both tomorrow morning...as usual."

"Of course, sweetheart." The man nods, watching as his daughter walks away, his smile fades slowly when she's out of sight. "I guess you better get back to your boyfriend." Jack teases her.

Sharon playfully hits his arm, "Shut it...and Jackson, if you kiss me again like you did earlier, I'll have no option other than to use deadly force." She walks toward the door.

"I kissed you?"

"You did."

"Can't say I'm sorry. I usually take any chance I get to kiss you. Don't remember it though." Jack puts his hands on his hips, smirking, "Want something special for tomorrow morning's breakfast?"

"Surprise me." Sharon grins, finally leaving to return to her own condo, closing the door behind her.


End file.
